


Soothing Dreams

by CrazyJanaCat



Series: Harrymort One-shots [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6894904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyJanaCat/pseuds/CrazyJanaCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't know how long he'd been there. The darkness clung to him every waking hour. Only asleep did he have light, a friend to talk to. His dreams were his only respite in a cruel existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soothing Dreams

Soothing Dreams

The cell was cold and dank even at the best of times, completely dark and frigid at any other. How long had it been now? It had to be years, at least. He had grown and couldn’t even remember his own age anymore. How could he possibly know? His only visits were for food and torture anyway, it had been like that since the beginning.

Why was he still alive anyway? Not as a trophy or to taunt, as Voldemort hadn’t visited him even once since throwing him in there right after… After… He-he didn’t remember, to be honest.

Laying down on his cot and facing the ceiling – he didn’t really do much else than that anyway – he started to think. He had only tasted freedom for less than a year at Hogwarts. Finding he was a wizard had been the best thing to ever happen to him. And then he made friends! Two even! He had been so sure that he was going to finally be happy and loved and then…

Then what? He… he suspected his teacher… Professor Snape… he suspected he was working for Voldemort, but, he wasn’t it was the other teacher… Professor Quirell… he worked for Voldemort… no… he was Voldemort, but at the same time he wasn’t…

He scowled. Now, he was just confusing himself. He often did when thinking about the past. With a sigh, he turned on his side and instead faced the wall. In times like these, the best thing he could do was go to sleep and visit his friend…

He’d met his friend in a dream. The only place he was safe from the loneliness and the long torture sessions. They would talk for hours, and his friend would always make him feel better. He’d wake up well rested and a little bit more hopeful that his pain would one day soon end. Maybe, just maybe, if he dies, he could be with his friend forever and ever and he’d never have to feel any kind of pain ever again. That would be great!

With a smile on his lips, he closed his eyes. At least, with no Death Eaters to come play with him for a few days – or hours or weeks, he really had no way of telling – he fell asleep quite easily.

He ended up in the little bedroom where he always went when he was asleep. A bleak, unhappy place that strangely held so many fond memories to Harry. He looked around for a moment, taking in the patter of rain on the window and the small blows of cold air getting in through the cracks. The weather changed, as did a lot of things outside the room. When it was sunny, he could see kids running around outside in the small courtyard. They all wore the same grey costumes. When it snowed, a few of them would be having snowball fights.

But inside the room, everything always stayed the same, and Harry was grateful for that. He loved this place. Whool’s, his friend had called it one night, and though he had admitted not having any happy memories of the place, he still considered it the best place to meet Harry, because it was the proof of a similar childhood they both shared.

“Hello, Harry,” the soothing voice that always made Harry’s heart jump with joy spoke.

The boy, now once again 11 years old, looked over to the bed and smiled. There his friend sat, dark ebony curls falling in his handsome, pale face. His dark eyes observing Harry while a small smile tugged at his pale lips. He was very handsome, Harry thought with a sting of jealousy. Those high cheekbones and straight nose were a lot more appealing than Harry’s bird’s nest and knobby knees. Still, he grinned back at his only friend.

“Hello, Tom,” he greeted.

 


End file.
